


Salix Babylonica et Hedera Grandifolia

by Phrensiedom



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Original Character(s), Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Post-Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Game(s), Trans Character, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:07:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28270653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phrensiedom/pseuds/Phrensiedom
Summary: Ivy meets another android who has significant and permanent injuries similar to her own.
Relationships: Markus/Simon (Detroit: Become Human), Original Android Character(s) (Detroit: Become Human) & Original Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Salix Babylonica et Hedera Grandifolia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Boneheart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boneheart/gifts).



> A Christmas gift for my beloved [Halo](https://twitter.com/HaloOnMarsUwU). Willow and everything about them belongs to Halo.

Sitting on the carpeted floor of her bedroom, building a house made of blocks for Daisy, Ivy flinched as the doorbell rang. She had been looking forward to this moment for the past week, but now it was here, she felt shy and anxious, her tummy muscles tight. 

“Ivy,” her father called from downstairs, “are you coming down to welcome our guest?”

The young android grabbed Daisy and called back, “Coming, Daddy!” Pressing the stuffed otter to her chest, she headed downstairs to the front door, where found Simon standing in the entryway, waiting for her. 

“Would you like to do the honors?”

Ivy shook her head, her white-blond hair swishing around her shoulders, and her father gave her a small smile accompanied by an understanding nod. He turned to the door, and Ivy hid behind him, gripping a handful of the loose material of his t-shirt and peeking around his waist. He opened the door to reveal a severely injured android, the permanent damage to their face immediately drawing her attention. Just like Ivy, the housing of their right optical unit was cracked. However, in their case, the crack extended down from the eye socket, and their optical unit was entirely missing. Much of their right cheek was blackened, perhaps by fire, like Ivy’s fingers. 

Ivy was immediately entranced by them, by how similar they looked to one another, by the certainty that they had experienced terrible things in their life as well—a shared understanding of severe abuse, terror, and brokenness. She could have stared at the stranger all day long, but as soon as their bright green gaze found her, she ducked behind her father’s back again. 

Simon laughed softly and reached back to pat Ivy’s shoulder, saying, “Thank you for visiting us, Willow. Ivy is always a little shy to start out, but she warms up quickly.” 

“Thank you for inviting me.” 

The visitor’s voice was terribly quiet, reminiscent of how Ivy had struggled to speak at a volume much louder than a whisper for months after coming to live with her fathers. 

“Would you like to come in?” There was a short silence, in which Willow must have shaken their head, as Simon said, “Okay, we’ll come outside, and Ivy can show you her favorite toys.” He swiveled at the waist to look down at his daughter. “Right, Ivy?”

Though she still hid behind him, out of Willow’s sight, she met his sky-blue gaze and nodded. She had few friends, so any opportunity to share her toys was near-momentous, but she was still feeling terribly shy. Simon extended his hand to his daughter, and she took it, following him out the front door, down the pair of concrete steps, and to the front driveway. 

Ivy pulled him into the garage, which was occupied by their compact car, and studied her toys with an intensity unseen in most kids her age. She turned to Simon and motioned for him to bend close, which he did. She cupped a hand to his ear and whispered, "What toys does Willow like best?"

"I can go ask them," he offered, his voice low. Ivy shook her head quickly, and Simon smiled, amused by just how shy she was acting. "Okay, okay. I’m sure they will enjoy whatever you choose."

Ivy's lips twisted toward one corner of her mouth, in thought, and her eyes darted between her father's reassuring smile, and the toys that were neatly tucked in a row of bins. She grabbed a few different options and handed them to Simon, paused, exchanged one for another, and then nodded, satisfied with her selections. Her father smiled at her and headed out to where Willow stood in the middle of the driveway, waiting, their undamaged eye closely watching the pair. 

Ivy trailed after her father, twisting one of her small fists into her cotton dress and squeezing Daisy to her chest with the other, particularly nervous now that she was expected to play with this quiet stranger. Her daddy had told her that children made Willow feel nervous, so she was supposed to be on her best behavior to help Willow feel less worried about kids. He has reassured her Willow was a nice android, and she had no reason to be scared, but she couldn't help it. New people were always scary. 

Regardless of the wiggling in her chest and tummy, she sat cross-legged next to her father on the concrete and watched Willow lower themself to the rough surface as well, perhaps six or seven feet away. It was at this point Ivy noticed they wore a long-sleeved top and full-length pants, as well as a slender glove on their left hand. The little girl frowned, glancing between their left and right hands, confused as to why they wore only the one glove, but she kept the question to herself as she was trying to uphold her promise. She did, however, surmise that Willow had deactivated or did not have the ability to sense temperature like she and her fathers did, as it was rather hot out.

Rather, she took the piece of crimson red sidewalk chalk from the cardboard box filled with an assortment of colors—some full sticks, some halved or broken, others worn down to a small nub—and set it aside for herself. She then held the box out to her father, who selected pastel green and pastel blue pieces, and stood, handing Daisy to Simon before picking up the box and carrying it over to Willow. 

The pale, scarred android stiffened significantly as she neared—which Ivy fortunately did not notice—and flinched away when she extended the box for them to choose a piece. Ivy’s shoulders sagged, and she whispered, “I’m sorry.” She set the box down and hurried back to her father’s side, feeling sick to her stomach that she had already upset their guest and unsure what she had done wrong, and taking Daisy and clutching her to her chest.

Simon placed an arm around Ivy’s shoulders and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of her head, murmuring, “It’s all right, little one. All kids make them nervous. They have to learn you’re kind and trustworthy.”

Ivy looked up at him, and he gave her a warm smile. She nodded, not returning it, and turned her attention back to Willow, who had seemingly relaxed again and was in the process of drawing something rather large with a sapphire blue piece and a black piece. They were bent over, focused on their work, though they would periodically pause a moment to glance up at their hosts or over their shoulder. Ivy didn’t know quite what to make of that but distracted herself by peering over at her father’s drawing so far. 

She frowned and said, “Is that Dad’s eye?”

Simon chuckled. “How could you tell?” Ivy shrugged, and he said, “Well, no judging me on my artistic merits yet. It’s not done.”

A faint smile touched her lips, and she briefly glanced at Willow, who was still immersed in their drawing, before lowering her gaze to the concrete in front of her. She stared for a few moments, finding the drive to play had been sapped away, and her mind kept returning to Willow wincing because she was so close. Even with her father’s reassurances that it was not about her, she still felt guilty and sad. She’d not yet interacted with anyone who seemed to not like her, which helped her get over her shyness, so she didn’t know what to do with herself. She wanted badly to be friends with Willow, just as she wanted to be friends with everyone, but that seemed impossible to the shortsighted mind of a child.

Shaking her head to dislodge the thoughts, she grabbed her fiery piece of chalk and began drawing ivy leaves like those clinging to the building where her fathers worked. She would periodically come back to this shape in her art and could never explain why when asked other than it made her happy. After only a few moments, she became engrossed in creating leaf after leaf after leaf, which spiraled along a twisting vine.

“Ivy.” 

The voice was unfamiliar and terribly soft, but the little girl’s head snapped up regardless to find Willow looking at her. They gave her a small smile and waved for her to come over. Another frown crinkled Ivy’s brow, but she stood, holding Daisy by her tail, and crossed over to where their guest sat. 

As she approached, Willow pointed to their drawing. Ivy finally looked down and took in the image in its entirety, gasping loudly, despite her self-consciousness and fear of upsetting them again.

“It’s beautiful!” she cried, causing Willow to flinch but for only a moment.

Willow had rendered an exquisite likeness of a thirium blue butterfly with black accent spots soaring above a willow tree. The background of the sky and the tree could be seen peeking through fine slashes in the butterfly’s wings. Ivy squatted down and pointed to one of them.

“What happened to it?”

“Someone hurt it.” 

Ivy’s brows pinched together with distress, and she said, “Why?”

“Well, they didn’t think of the butterfly as having thoughts and feelings. They viewed it as unimportant and hurt it because they could.” Willow’s intact eye grew sad as they spoke but did not falter in holding Ivy’s gaze. 

“That’s so sad,” Ivy said, pressing Daisy to her chest for comfort.

“Maybe a little bit, but it’s still beautiful, it can still fly, and it’s still the same butterfly it’s always been on the inside,” Willow said, tapping their fingers on their breastbone. 

Ivy considered this for a moment, her gaze darting over to her father, who gave her a soft smile and a reassuring nod. She looked back at Willow, who was still watching her. Ivy studied their eye, and her hand drifted absently up to the crack in her forehead as they gave her a slight smile. Tears immediately began to well in the corners of Ivy’s eyes and slip down her cheeks, and she pressed Daisy’s cottony fur to her mouth to prevent herself from sobbing or whining. Despite these efforts, she drew in a loud, gasping breath, causing Willow’s eyes to widen in what looked to the little girl like fear. This didn’t help, of course, and Ivy hurried back over to her father, who was waiting with open arms. 

He enfolded her in a close embrace, giving Willow a brief apologetic look, and spoke to her softly, reminding her that she was safe and the memories couldn’t hurt her. After a few solid minutes of this, she began to calm enough to be able to respond, whispering shakily in his ear. They exchanged conversation in this manner for a few minutes further, until Simon stood, holding Ivy on his hip, and approached Willow, who stood as well. Their eyebrows were pinched tightly with concern, and their eye shifted down to meet Ivy’s gaze. 

“I’m so sorry, Ivy,” they said, their voice still soft.

The little girl swiped away a tear with a chalk covered palm, leaving a crimson red streak across her cheek, and drew a shaking breath. Simon answered instead, saying, “Please don’t feel bad. It just triggered a few things, and I think it would be best if we ended a little early.” He swept Ivy’s hair out from in front of her good eye and behind her ear. “She asked me to tell you that she loves your drawing—” A small smile flickered on her lips, which Willow mirrored. “—she thinks you’re extraordinarily beautiful, she likes you a lot, and she really, really, really, really,” Simon said, raising four fingers accordingly and looking to Ivy to confirm he had the right number. She nodded with a quiet giggle, “wants to be friends with you.”

A faint thirium blue blush blossomed on Willow’s cheeks, and they said, “You have such a kind heart, Ivy. I would be happy to be your friend.”

Now it was Ivy’s turn to blush, and she hid her face behind Daisy. 

“She also told me she wanted to give you a hug, but she understands if you don’t feel comfortable with that and would like to offer Daisy for a hug instead.”

Ivy extended the dark brown sea otter to Willow, who took it and gave it a gentle hug tucked beneath their chin before handing to back to the little girl. She gathered it in her arms and gave it a tight squeeze. 

Willow waved and said, “Feel better, Ivy,” as they walked away, pulling the hood of their shirt up over their hair. 

Ivy watched them go for a few moments before turning her attention to the piece of art at her father’s feet. She blinked to take a photo that she could always have close at-hand to remind her she was beautiful, she could still run and hug and love, and she was still the same little girl she had always been on the inside.


End file.
